The Sophomore Chronicles
by toomuchtoosoon
Summary: Sophomore year was an unusual one in Adam Banks' life as the lone sophomore and Duck on the Varsity team. The Sophomore Chronicles provide glimpses into some of the important moments from this crazy year.
1. Default Chapter

The Sophomore Chronicles: Glimpses into the life of Adam Banks  
  
D3: The Mighty Ducks ended with the Varsity team defeated by JV for the first time in school history, the indication that the school name would be changed to the Eden Hall Ducks and Luis making out furiously with Riley's girlfriend Mindy—all around a happy ending. Unfortunately, that is not exactly how events ended up unfolding. Due to suffocating pressure from his father, Adam Banks decided to rejoin the Varsity team, playing third- line center. The Varsity team once again won the state championship, making the streak 11 years and running. The school kept its "Warriors" moniker and its red and black school colors because the school board refused to budge due to the bitterness residing from the Bombay/possible lawsuit incident. Life at Eden Hall basically returned to normal—to how it was before the Ducks came. The Ducks lived their own idyllic existence and the Warriors did the same—mostly without conflict.  
  
The one notable exception was Adam, whose life was drastically changed after that one game. The end of that game marked the temporary conclusion of Adam's identity as a Duck, and his journey into the life of a Warrior. However, Rick Riley was right when he asserted that Adam "never really had the heart of a Warrior." So Adam lived the rest of his freshman year, stuck in this middle-existence where his Varsity teammates, at the urging of Riley and Cole, did not fully accept him, yet refused to let him be with his Duck teammates. The lone exception was Scooter, who tried his best to act as a buffer between Adam and the wrath of the two seniors.  
  
Eventually, Riley and Cole graduated, along with several other seniors. Scooter was named captain of the team, and Adam moved into the first-line center spot. Sophomore year was a year full of new challenges and pressures for Adam, and he walked his new road mostly independent of his Duck friends. The Sophomore Chronicles provide a glimpse into some of the important moments of this unusual year—Adam's rare yet memorable escapades with the Ducks (don't worry, they didn't just disappear), the beginnings of Adam's budding relationship with his girlfriend, his adventures (or misadventures) in the Varsity locker room and Adam's life at home.  
  
Author's Notes: As usual, I don't own any of the Ducks, Orion, Scooter, Riley, Cole, Wilson, Mindy, et al.—they belong to Disney. However, I do have some original characters, and I hope that none of them enter Mary Sue category—I've tried my best to make them as real as possible. Of course, Pilar Osario is intentionally made somewhat of a perfect Mary Sue, so I need a "Get Out of Jail" pass here.  
  
As most of you might have noticed, my favorite Duck is Adam Banks. I don't know why, but I just have a great time writing about him. I gave some writing time to Charlie, Portman, Connie and Guy in my last story ("Afraid of Change") and that was really fun. Although they won't play a huge role in this new story, don't worry, they'll all make their own appearances. The Duck spirit will stay alive and well. I just hope that you'll all have a good time getting to know such characters as Scooter, Nick Harden, Ryan Hudson, Pilar Osario and Thomasin Logan.

When Adam entered the Eden Hall Varsity hockey locker room, Wesley "Lunch Box" Covington II and Luke Pressman were in the middle of the long-awaited rookie hazing tradition. The new juniors on the Varsity team—Ryan Hudson, Nick Harden, Jason Hughes, Barry Jensen, David Engell, Preston Marshall and Derek Martin—were all in their boxers, covered in shaving cream head to toe, waiting to be stuffed into lockers. Unadulterated laughter was the prevalent sound in the room and Scott "Scooter" Vanderbilt III watched the proceedings with a grin on his face.  
  
All the seniors remembered their own hazing the year before, having to wear various ridiculous costumes around school for a week. Scooter had a wry smile on his face as he remembered having to wear a SpongeBob SquarePants costume to all his classes and sitting next to a flamboyant Liberace pimp and a stealthy black ninja. Scooter glanced over at the glass window that separated Coach Richard Wilson's office from the rest of the locker room. The two locked eyes and Wilson smiled his subtle approval, having seen the like for the past 20 or so years. These guys were getting off lucky, he thought. This was just a friendly tradition and tomorrow, everybody would be friends all looking toward the goal of a 12th straight state championship.  
  
At that moment Wesley spotted Banks enter and gave Scooter a questioning glance. Wesley mouthed "Can I get this guy?" and Scooter read it loud and clear. He shook his head with an expression of menace on his face that said, "Don't think about it." Adam had always been a bit of an outsider on their Varsity team. Adam walked in, did his job, and walked out, with no significant emotional attachments to the well-being and camaraderie of the team. Scooter did not blame him, considering all the crap Riley and Cole gave him last year. It was a new year, and Scooter wanted to make sure that Adam felt more comfortable on the team. Eden Hall was going to need him if they had any chance of moving past the state championship level this year. The team this year had all the pieces required to make a run at a national championship this year, Scooter thought. The last and most important piece was getting Adam into the fold, and after all the terrorizing that he had been through last year, the last thing Scooter needed was the huge and imposing Lunch Box hazing Adam before first practice. Even though Lunch Box was undoubtedly a huge guy who could possibly beat the crap out of Scooter at a moment's notice, he respected the decision of his captain.  
  
There was a malicious gleam in Wesley's eye as he was suddenly inspired. "Hey, Banks, take this locker over here. Riley insisted—its tradition for the last first-line center to give his locker to the new center." Wesley gestured to the locker with a flourish. Adam looked at him with a bewildered expression as he dropped his bag on the bench in front of the locker. There was something wrong with this situation, but Scooter could not exactly pinpoint what. He watched with grim consternation as Adam jerked up the metal lock and opened the door. Time seemed to slow as Scooter saw Lunch Box no longer able to hold in his laughter and Adam's face was shocked. Scooter looked over Adam's shoulder and barely held in an obscenity. The scene inside the locker was harrowing; a huge duck, the victim of taxidermy hung from the top of the locker from a rope, neck broken. Photos of all the Ducks on the JV team were plastered all over its walls with dripping red "X"s drawn creepily across their faces. In the middle of the locker was Adam's own picture untouched by the red, save for splotches splattered from the other photos.  
  
Scooter quickly slammed the locker door shut and glared at Wesley, who quickly stopped laughing. There was a silence in the locker room as everyone stared at the scene. As Scooter jerked open the door of the next locker, he looked around the room and his anger was clear and strong. "Those bastards...Banks, don't worry about it. It was a joke."  
  
Adam nodded his head slightly. "Yeah, whatever."  
  
However, Scooter recognized the look on his face easily. If Adam was closed off to them before, that was nothing compared to what would follow. Scooter swore under his breath. It was going to be a long year.


	2. The Mulberry Tree

Sorry for the delay, but my computer crashed the other week with 2 new chapters on it. I'm on my brother's computer, so my updating will be erratic. Thanks for reviewing my story--I love writing it!

Adam sat under an isolated mulberry tree on the far end of Commons Field, chewing his apple during lunch. Adam came here often, whenever he needed to get away from the Varsity guys. Last year, Riley and Cole pretty much forced Adam into sitting with them every day at lunch. It was not like they enjoyed his company or anything—Riley and Cole were just hell-bent on making Adam's life suck all of last year. What could he have done? Adam was just a scrawny freshman playing third-line center and he had no friends in that locker room. It was pure hell, maybe the worst year of Adam's life. But this year—this year was supposed to be different. Scooter was captain, and he always looked out for Adam. However, after that scene in the locker room, Adam realized that things weren't going to change. He could still see the sneering and laughing expression on Lunch Box's face. The faces changed, but that dejected feeling always stayed the same.  
  
Adam looked down at his lunch—it was the same thing everyday...Deli-style turkey sandwich, bag of potato chips and an apple. Sometimes to mix things up, Adam had an orange. But just like his current situation, it never really changed. The symbolism that his lunch represented made Adam lose his appetite and he pushed it away.  
  
"Hey, stranger." Adam turned suddenly and there was Averman, leaning back against the tree.  
  
In Adam's experience, hardly anybody came around the mulberry trees during lunch—that was why he liked them—and nobody ever bothered him. Averman's sudden appearance startled him. "Averman...I didn't even see you there."  
  
Averman smiled and smoothly transitioned into his best impression of the butler from 'Mr. Deeds.' "That's because I'm very, very sneaky, sir."  
  
Adam weakly chuckled at Averman's attempt at making him laugh. "So, how are you and the Ducks? The last couple of days have been so crazy that I haven't been able to catch up with everyone since we came back from summer."  
  
Averman spoke in his casual, always-joking tone. "Oh, yeah, everything's great. We had some freshman come in and they're working out great. Coach Orion is lightening up, too. Just yesterday at practice, he" Averman paused to give a mock gasp, "laughed out loud at one of my jokes. And you?"  
  
Adam handed Averman half of his sandwich and spoke nonchalantly. "The same."  
  
Averman gave Adam a questioning look. "Really?"  
  
"No, not really." Adam smiled weakly. "Riley terrorized my locker, 'Carrie'-style. I just had to get away from those guys."  
  
Averman picked off the tomatoes on his sandwich as he asked "Why don't you just come back? You'd be welcome, anytime."  
  
Adam looked Averman straight in the eye. "We both know that that's not an option."  
  
Averman laid himself out on the grass, placing his hands behind his head. "Why not?"  
  
Adam shrugged as if he was just giving the subject thought for the first time, but in reality he went through all of his predetermined answers, perfected over several sleepless nights. "Uh, I don't know. For one thing, my dad would see his lawyer literally the next day to take me out of his will if I ever quit Varsity. I couldn't do that to him. Plus, how would it look to all the big schools if they saw that I quit Varsity to go back to JV? They'd all think that I couldn't hack it on the big stage. All those scouts would think 'Once that Adam Banks got some real pressure on him, became first-line center, he high-tailed it out of there.' They all see me practically every week, those scouts. They aren't supposed to be there, but I see them. This is my chance. And I guess I'm willing to give up a bit of my happiness for that." Adam stared straight ahead with glazed eyes.  
  
Averman picked absently at the blades of grass. "You know, maybe I'm lucky that I never developed into the hockey star. I don't get all the fame, scholarships or hot chicks...But I don't have to make the decisions you do."  
  
"Yeah." Adam followed Averman's lead and leaned back onto the grass, not caring in the least bit that he was wearing pressed khakis. "Averman?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
Adam's voice was strange. "Talk."  
  
Averman did a double-take, which was difficult considering he was lying down. "Say what?"  
  
"Talk. I come here to get away from all those Varsity guys, but no matter what, I can't get away from my own thoughts. It's driving me crazy. Maybe if you talk, I won't have to think about anything."  
  
Averman found the request strange, but Adam's voice was pleading—so he talked. "People think that Tom Hanks was joking in 'You've Got Mail' when he says that the answer to any question can be found in one of the 'Godfathers'," Averman paused as if giving reverence to the movie trilogy, "But my friends and I did this official survey online and we found that..."  
  
And so Adam drifted off. Time passed—Adam was not sure exactly how much—when Averman nudged him on the arm. "Hey, Adam...I think we'd better get going."  
  
Adam shook off the remnants of sleep and looked at his black sports watch. "Oh, damn, we're going to be late." He stood up and patted the dirt off of his pants. "Thanks, Averman. That's the most peace I've gotten in a long time."  
  
Averman smiled. "No problem. I just hope that you get everything figured out."  
  
Adam's back was turned to Averman, so he could not see the grim expression on Adam's face. Under his breath he muttered, "I don't think that's possible."  
  
"What's that?"  
  
Adam spoke quickly as they walked. "Oh, nothing."


	3. Winter Dance, Part I

A/N: I'm back! I'm sorry this took so long but this was seriously the hardest chapter I've ever written. My computer has been resurrected from the dead, so hopefully that'll mean good things for my updates. Of course, introductions to new characters is always hard--especially in this case, when you finally meet the girl Adam spends at least the next couple of years with (I haven't decided whether the two of them survive UCLA/University of Minnesota.) Tom is purposely made a little hazy in this chapter (Pilar is supposed to overshadow her), so don't worry, some real conversation between Tom and Adam occurs later (If anyone remembers from "Wanting What You Have," Tom reminisces about how Adam carried her back to her dorm after she sprained her ankle at the dance...So, obviously, there's going to be a cute chapter where that happens.)

Adam was lacing up his sneakers after practice when Scooter plopped down next to him on the bench, just finished with his post-practice shower. Since the incident with Adam's locker, the two of them inhabited lockers next to each other. Adam enjoyed it immensely and Scooter felt like Adam was the little brother he never had.  
  
"Julie and I are going to head over to the Winter Dance tonight. Do you want to tag along?" Scooter busily dried his hair with the towel as Adam straightened out the legs of his khaki slacks.  
  
Adam cocked his head to the side and squinted one of his eyes. "Oh, I don't know. The rest of the Ducks are off on that Chemistry field trip all weekend so I wouldn't have anyone to hang out with."  
  
Scooter gestured toward his locker. "Hand me my deodorant over there." Adam leaned back, grabbed the deodorant and threw it over to Scooter. "Come on, I could totally set you up. There are a bunch of girls who would love to keep you company for the night, and I wouldn't even have to pay them."  
  
Adam chucked a towel towards Scooter's head. "That was very funny, Scooter. I should give you the address to Reader's Digest. They pay a lot of money for funny things. Actually, I'm not sure if I even forgive you for the last time you tried to set me up."  
  
Scooter gave Adam an expression of mock innocence. "Oh? And what was wrong with Vanessa Wallace? I thought that she was VERY nice."  
  
Adam laughed. "Vanessa tried to rip off my pants that night! I don't know about you, but that is not my definition of nice. I mean, those were my favorite pants."  
  
Scooter dug through the pile of clothes in his locker and found his wallet. A long accordion-like plastic sleeve full of photos flapped out. Scooter studied one with interest. "How about Viviane Baxter?"  
  
Adam barely looked up from the gym bag he was neatly arranging. "Scratch that. I have Trig with her and she has been stalking Nick for the past year and a half. It's alarming."  
  
"Hmm, we'd better not tell Keller that—I think at Miss Trammel's School of Manners they teach girls how to rip the trachea out of the throat of a 'home-wrecker' with their bare hands," Scooter commented before moving on to the next photo. "Rachel Covington?"  
  
The expression in Adam's eyes darkened. "Lunch Box's sister? Let's not go there. Why are we even doing this? I haven't even agreed to go yet."  
  
Scooter ignored him as he suddenly spotted a photo and pointed at it with sheer confidence. "Here we go—Pilar Osario. God, I almost forgot how hot she is. Banks, you've got to meet her. As a fellow dude, you cannot say no."  
  
The prospect of meeting Pilar Osario didn't appeal to Adam any more than meeting Viviane or Rachel, but he remembered everything Scooter had done for him ever since Adam had been at Eden Hall. He hated to say no to Scooter and going to this dance was the least he could do. "Okay, fine, I'll go. But I won't promise to have fun—you got me?"  
  
Scooter smiled as he buttoned his shirt. He knew that Adam was going to go—getting the official yes was just a technicality. Adam added, "You know, one of these days I'm going to say no."  
  
Adam sat alone in the Eden Hall dance floor on one of the tacky tables scattered around the place. Well, Adam thought, I knew that this was going to suck and I have not been disappointed. Scooter and Julie were busy dancing and laughing on the dance floor. This Pilar Osario was nowhere to be seen. Adam looked around for company of any kind.  
  
He spotted Nick Harden and Ryan Hudson, who after Scooter were the coolest guys on the team. Adam liked them well enough and started to walk over in that direction. He stopped suddenly as he spotted Keller and Georgina with them—the infamous girlfriends. Keller looked pissed—like she had just found out that Viviane Baxter has been stalking Nick for a year and a half. Adam had to suppress a laugh as the normally tough-as-nails Varsity hockey players looked slightly scared. Nonetheless, Adam recognized that heading over there would not be the best idea in the world.  
  
Erica Li was in all of Adam's honors classes and they usually paired up to work on school projects together. She was the sophomore class president and lived for these cheesy dances. Her school-inspired enthusiasm could possibly lift Adam's mood. However, as he walked closer Adam saw that Erica's face was attached to something—some junior's face. Oops, bad idea. Adam plopped back down into his chair, a little dejected. Right now, Adam would welcome the idea of meeting Pilar Osario just to alleviate his boredom.  
  
Just then Scooter and Julie stumbled up to his table, practically drunk in each other's company. Adam was vaguely jealous of their relationship. He went on a lot of dates—Scooter had them coming in a plentiful supply—but none of those girls lasted more than one day. They were all gorgeous girls, but they were all the same. Adam had trouble telling them all apart sometimes.  
  
"Hey, Banks, bored enough yet?" Scooter smiled as he chugged back a cup of watered down punch with one hand, the other arm never leaving Julie's shoulder. "Pilar's here finally and she's looking forward to meeting you—God knows why, though."  
  
So Adam tailed Scooter as they pushed through the crowd. Here we go, Adam thought, but then anything would be better than looking like a loser alone at his table. Adam stopped in his tracks when he spotted the girl that Scooter indicated. Scooter knew a lot of pretty girls, but this one was a stunner. Pilar was a young Penelope Cruz if anything, with the same plump lips and Spanish features.  
  
Scooter gestured. "Pilar Osario, this is Banksie—or, I'm sorry, Adam Banks."  
  
Pilar offered Adam a hand to shake and said in a surprisingly normal voice, "Hey, Scooter, you've got me a white guy just like you, eh? I can't take this boy home to my abuela—she'd wave her rosary beads around and curse me for bringing a pale demon." Adam couldn't help but smile at her wicked grin.  
  
Scooter wasn't finished, however. "And, of course, this is Pilar's best friend Tom Logan."  
  
Adam pulled his gaze from Pilar long enough to take in the other girl sitting at the table. Although Scooter obviously found Pilar the more attractive of the two, he treated Tom with more regard as evident by the bear hug they exchanged. Adam studied her with interest. Tom had an unusual face—there was no one to whom Adam could liken to her. Aquiline nose, long brown hair and brown eyes hooded by black, square-framed glasses like the pair he wore sometimes. Tom's eyes were an unusual color, but 'brown' was the extent to which Adam knew colors. She wasn't particularly pretty, but something about Tom made Adam like her. He found himself giving her a genuine smile, an odd action on his part as he was very wary of meeting new people.  
  
So Adam found himself sitting at this table with Tom and Pilar, listening to Pilar's constant chattering. Adam liked her a lot—Pilar drew him into conversation easily and made Adam comfortable, which was a rarity.  
  
"So, Adam, Scooter told me that you're one of his Varsity teammates."  
  
Adam quirked an eyebrow. "I take it you don't follow the hockey team?" That seriously surprised him because at Eden Hall, everyone lived for hockey.  
  
Pilar smiled. "If I wanted to see guys beat each other up with sticks, I'd hang out in my 'hood."  
  
Tom, who had previously been silent all night, turned to Adam and laughed out loud. "Oh, please! Adam, don't let Pilar bull-shit you into thinking she's a hood just because she's Spanish. Pilar lives in a huge house in an upscale suburban neighborhood in Minneapolis, her dad owns Farhagard Computers and Technology and her 'abuela' is a Caucasian woman named Samantha English."  
  
Pilar innocently twirled a piece of dark black hair around her perfectly manicured finger. "And don't you let HER think that she's always this shy and unpleasant to be around." Tom stuck her tongue out at Pilar.  
  
Pilar's cell phone suddenly rang out and she smiled apologetically as she answered it. It was difficult to hear the conversation over the blasting music, so Adam looked over at Tom and she smiled at him. It was a nice smile, kind of tentative and unassuming. The smile made Tom look more accessible than she had all night.  
  
"I'm sorry, guys but I have to cut out—my mom just found the bill for my Birger Christensen mink coat and she is pissed. I have to diffuse the situation at home."  
  
Tom playfully punched Pilar on the shoulder as she said playfully in a sing- song voice, "Oooh, your mom is going to kill you!"  
  
As Pilar stood up and collected her purse, she responded with the utmost confidence, "I'll just give her the doe eyes and that'll be the end of it. I just feel so bad that I'm leaving so early—I only just got to know Adam and we were having a good time."  
  
Adam blushed. "Oh, it's alright. I guess we'll see each other around school then."  
  
Pilar placed a hand on Adam's arm—he liked the feeling and it made his heart race. "No, how about we see a movie together... Next Thursday?"  
  
Adam smiled. "Of course. See you then."  
  
Pilar pointed her chin at Tom. "Come with?"  
  
Tom shook her head and said simply. "I couldn't."  
  
With Pilar's departure, Tom and Adam were left alone.


	4. Winter Dance, Part II

A/N: Well, here's the moment of truth when you finally get to know Thomasin a little more (and if that isn't enough, there is some more in the next chapter--with some Connie and Julie.) Like with most people (most especially OC's), you either like them or you don't. However, I've tried to make her slightly realistic, based on my favorite people and some of my own experiences. So, it's my hope that you all end up liking Thomasin!

Adam and Tom sat directly across from each other at the dance. Their eyes locked for a moment, and then in a split second she turned her eyes away. Obviously, Tom was a quiet person, just like Adam. He wasn't sure if she was just shy, like Adam was, or an observer of people. It was an odd term, 'observer of people,' and Adam didn't know why it suddenly popped into his head. But the way Tom watched him during his conversation with Pilar made Adam want to know what kind of judgment she had passed on him.  
  
"So...Scooter said that your full name is Tom Logan. That's interesting, seeing as you're a girl and all." Adam stopped himself from slapping his forehead. Of course, he thought, Tom knows that she's a girl—and she probably gets questions about her name all the time.  
  
Tom gave Adam a questioning glance. "What do you mean?"  
  
Adam waved a dismissive hand to his own comment. "Oh, nothing. It's just that it's a really modern name."  
  
To Adam's surprise, Tom laughed, a husky laugh that held no hint of girlish frivolousness. It made Adam think that she didn't laugh very often. "It's funny that you say that, actually. 'Tom' is a nickname—its short for Thomasin Inez, which may be the most traditional and old-fashioned name that you will ever come across."  
  
Adam smiled at her comment. "So which one do you prefer—Tom or Thomasin?"  
  
Tom's eyes were fixated on the sleeve of Adam's sweater and she picked off a piece of lint before she answered. "Only teachers and my relatives call me Thomasin nowadays. And Tom—it's a half-baked idea of a nickname Pilar thought up and now it's stuck. I haven't told anyone this and I don't know why I'm telling you, but," she paused for moment, "I can't stand either of the names."  
  
Adam almost laughed at her admission. "So, what would you like me to call you? I don't want you to inwardly cringe whenever I say your name. I mean, we just met and that's not the type of impression I want to make."  
  
Tom looked like she was surprised that Adam cared about the impression he made to her. "Again, I don't know why I'm telling you this—I guess you just seem like someone I can trust." Adam smiled as he realized that Tom was telling him in her own way exactly what judgment she had passed on him. "I was named after my grandmother, and before she died I loved her more than anything. One day when I was snooping through some of the stuff in her basement, I found some letters that an old boyfriend had sent her from the old days in Barcelona. They were steamy, passionate letters...I still remember to this day how much I blushed reading them. Anyway, this Francisco guy, addressed all of his letters to 'Tamsin.' And since that day, I've always wished that someone would call me that."  
  
There was a silence. "Well, I guess that settles it." Adam leaned back into his chair. "Tamsin Logan—I like the sound of that."  
  
Tamsin leaned back into her chair as well, her hand partially covering her face. "Oh, God, why did I just tell you that? That might have been one of the most personal things that I have ever told anyone."  
  
Adam pulled Tamsin's hand away from her face. He held onto her hand for a moment longer than necessary, and Adam liked the feeling. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about. I'm glad that you told me that story."  
  
Tamsin's eyes searched his face. "So, do you really like Pilar?"  
  
Adam answered more flippantly than he probably should have. "Oh, yeah, definitely. Pilar is everything I look for in a girl—vibrant, easily to talk to, confident and very pretty. What more could I ask for, right?"  
  
"Right." Tamsin's response was curt and sharp. "That's how things always turn out. Pilar and I, we've been best friends since the 3rd grade, but we're as different as two people can get."  
  
Adam knew that she was implying something in her statement, but he couldn't quite grasp exactly what. Adam could be quite stupid about girls sometimes and that was something he knew for sure.  
  
"I should head back to my dorm now." Tamsin suddenly stood up to leave, and Adam inexplicably put a hand on her arm, impeding her progress.  
  
"I don't know what I did, but I get the feeling that I offended you. And I just wanted to say that I'm sorry."  
  
Tamsin gave him a wry smile. "It's not your fault. When you have a best friend like Pilar, you get used to things happening a certain way. Talking to you, I thought that maybe things could be different. But no...they always stay the same."  
  
Her words stunned Adam for how closely they seemed to echo the predicament he found himself with concerning the Varsity hockey team. Adam still didn't know exactly what Tamsin was talking about, but he could understand the hopelessness and helplessness that went with that feeling. "I should walk you, then."  
  
"No, no, its perfectly alright. I'll be fine. I just want to leave."  
  
Adam was feeling somewhat desperate. "How about a dance?"  
  
Tamsin was surprised at his request and Adam didn't blame her—he was surprised, too. "I have a confession to make—I'm a terrible dancer."  
  
Adam laughed at how serious she made her confession. "Well, that makes the two of us. We might as well look stupid together."  
  
Tamsin couldn't help but laugh with him. "When you put it that way, I don't see how I can resist."  
  
And so Adam and Tamsin walked out onto the dance floor together, under the questioning glance of Scooter, who tried to meet Adam's eye. It was a slow song, so Tamsin awkwardly placed her arms around Adam's neck and he tentatively wrapped his arms around her waist. They paced back and forth, their bodies several inches apart. Adam wasn't exactly Don Juan Demarco, but even he had to laugh at this shuffling, barely-touching dance.  
  
To change things up, Adam suddenly twirled Tamsin, a movement she wasn't expecting. In a moment that seemed to go by so slowly, Adam watched in horror as Tamsin stumbled onto another dancer's foot and cry out in pain as she crumpled to the floor.  
  
"Oh, crap—Tamsin, are you okay?"  
  
For some unfathomable reason, Tamsin started laughing. Hard. She laughed and laughed until she was hardly breathing. Adam just stood there with a confused look on his face. When Tamsin finally caught her breath she said to Adam, "You weren't joking when you said that you would call me that. I don't know, but I really like the sound of it—maybe it's just the way you say it."  
  
Adam crouched down and sat cross-legged on the dance floor, ignoring all the questioning stares of the other students. "What's hurting you right now?"  
  
Tamsin looked him directly in the eye. "A lot of things. But right now my ankle is killing me. I think that I sprained it."  
  
Adam scrunched up his face in dismay. "Ouch, I'm sorry."  
  
Tamsin held up a hand. "No, don't apologize. It's kind of funny when I think about it. But I guess I should get campus security to drive me back to my dorm."  
  
Adam smiled at her. "Don't be ridiculous. It was my fault that you sprained your ankle, so I'm the one who is going to make amends." Tamsin gave out a yelp as Adam collected her up in his arms and carried her light body in a way that reminded him of bridegrooms who were carrying their new brides up to honeymoon suites.  
  
People clapped as Adam collected Tamsin's purse and carried her out of the dance floor. It was truly a surreal and hilarious moment. When they were outside of the gymnasium, Tamsin finally spoke. "You're crazy, you know that?"  
  
Adam laughed. "I didn't until now." 'Crazy' was never a term anyone ever used to describe Adam. He was never one to do things impulsively—until now.  
  
"I kind of like it." Tamsin seemed to be surprised at her own admission.  
  
Adam himself was surprised as he responded. "Me, too. Now, where is your dorm?"  
  
When they finally reached the doorstep of Tamsin and Pilar's dorm, Adam placed Tamsin down and she leaned against the wall, shifting all of her weight on one foot. She dug into her purse to find the key, and as Tamsin unlocked the door she told Adam, "Okay, well, thanks for the erm...lift. I'm okay now."  
  
Adam watched wordlessly as Tamsin tried to walk into her dorm by placing the slightest bit of weight on her sprained ankle. After about three steps of the most ginger walking Adam had ever seen, Tamsin crumpled onto the floor. Adam rushed over there and picked her up again. He had to admire the girl. Adam could see that she was in a lot of pain, but she never cried like he might have expected.  
  
Adam placed Tamsin onto her bed, and she quickly sat up and wrapped her arms around her knees. "Thanks again."  
  
"No problem. I'll call the school doctor and send him up tomorrow morning. Is there anything else you need?"  
  
"No, I'll be okay." Tamsin held her hand out to Adam to shake. "You're a good guy, Adam."  
  
"Well, thanks."  
  
Tamsin continued. "You're going to be good to Pilar, I know it. You have a date with my best friend on Thursday, remember?"  
  
"Oh, right." Her statement made Adam feel surprisingly empty. "I guess I'll see you around then."


	5. The Bookstore

A/N: First off, I'd like to take this opportunity to give a major dose of thanks to the people who have been leaving feedback about my stories. It gives me so much encouragement to see all your comments. I'm relatively new to fanfiction, and now I'm hooked--so THANK YOU. Special thanks go out to Katie and Rachel--they've been there since the beginning and I love you guys! Watch out after this chapter for a preview of my next story, "Convince Her to Stay" (I thought of the concept today at work and I just couldn't wait to get started!)

Adam found himself in one of the worst positions a male could ever be in on a Saturday afternoon; stuck in between two teenage girls in the midst of a major shopping spree. He wasn't quite sure how it happened; Adam just remembered popping his head into Connie and Julie's dorm, asking if they'd like to help him buy a birthday gift for his mother. The details were quite hazy after that. Adam vaguely remembered a bit of a fight over who would ride in the front seat of his black Porsche 911 on the way to the Mall of America in Bloomington.  
  
The huge scope of the mall gave Adam an immediate headache, but within minutes Julie and Connie had chosen out a gift and it was wrapped neatly in the bag Adam now carried, amongst it seemed like hundreds of other bags. Adam wasn't even sure that he knew what the gift was.  
  
Like a poor sap, Adam stood in the middle of Victoria's Secret while Julie and Connie 'oohed' and 'aahed' over what Adam supposed were bras and panties.  
  
Julie held up a black lacy teddy. "What do you think of this?"  
  
Adam shifted uncomfortably in his sneakers. "Erm...Well, it's nice...I think. Why do you ask?"  
  
"Well, our anniversary is coming up and...do you think that Scooter would like it?" Julie looked at him in earnest.  
  
Adam started coughing uncontrollably. "Whoa, hold on a minute. That is WAY too much information."  
  
Julie seemed to like the reaction she got out of Adam, so she left to try it on. While Julie was in the dressing room, Adam took the opportunity to ask Connie "So, umm...how is the team doing?"  
  
Connie closely studied the seam of a beige-colored bra. "Oh, its so awesome. You should see the soft hands on Jerry—his assist to Guy in our game against Blake was the coolest I've seen in years."  
  
Adam interrupted Connie. "Wait—who's Jerry?"  
  
Connie answered without hesitating. "Oh, Jerry? He's part of the Brat Pack."  
  
Adam was confused and a little agitated. "What the hell is the Brat Pack? Are we talking 80's-style Emilio Estevez and Molly Ringwald?"  
  
As Connie replaced the bra on the rack, she crinkled her nose in disgust over some miniscule detail in what, to Adam, seemed like a perfectly nice bra. "Oh, don't be silly, Adam. I forgot that you don't know about all this stuff. The Brat Pack is the name we gave to the freshmen that joined the team this season."  
  
Adam was really craving a piece of gum at the moment, but was too bogged down by shopping bags to dig it out of his pocket. Adam was really irritated and wished desperately that he could attribute it to his gum craving. "And so the BRAT PACK," Adam emphasized this with very sarcastic finger quotation marks (impressive considering all of the shopping bags he was carrying), "consists of this Jerry guy and who else?"  
  
Connie meandered toward the register with a handful of panties. As she dug some money out of her purse, Connie responded absentmindedly, "Um, let's see...There's Jerry, of course, George, Wayne, Michael and Ivan. You know, I think that you would like them."  
  
"Yeah, sure." Adam was stunned at how sharp his voice was.  
  
Connie's jaw dropped—then her mouth formed a straight line in indignation. "You don't have to rude to me, Adam."  
  
Adam immediately felt regretful for the tone he used with one of his oldest friends. "I'm sorry, Connie. I'm just not used to being so out of the loop."  
  
"Oh, it's alright. I understand." Connie gave Adam one of her trademark 'sweetheart' smiles.  
  
Again with astoundingly impressive agility considering the massive amount of shopping bags, Adam put an arm around Connie. "You're the best. Anything I can do to make it up to you?"  
  
Connie looked around quickly as she whispered to Adam, "I have dibs on the front seat on the way back."  
  
Adam chuckled. "Okay—you've got it."  
  
Connie pumped a fist in triumph just as Julie was exiting the fitting room. "What's going on?"  
  
"I've got the front seat, bitch!" Adam laughed at Connie's random shot of vulgarity.  
  
The three of them stopped in one of the many bookstores at the Mall of America. Connie and Julie were off browsing through the chick 'beach-read' section (like there were many habitable beaches in Minnesota during October) and Adam was roaming his favorite part of the bookstore, the war/history section.  
  
Adam wasn't afraid to admit that he was a nerd and that in his spare time he read titles like "Empire by Default" and "Conflict After the Cold War." It was such an obscure hobby that Adam never had anyone to talk to about the stuff he read. In fact, Adam caught his roommate, Eric Harmon, using his copy of "Fifty Years War" to eat his roast beef sandwich off of one time.  
  
Yeah, its difficult being a nerd, Adam thought as he picked up a book about World War II. An odd thought entered Adam's head. He wondered what Tamsin did in her spare time. Adam thought back to their conversation. He told her about hockey and how she and Pilar should come and watch a game sometime. Adam described the experience of coaching a Little League team, and all the other things he liked to do. But never once did Tamsin mention her own hobbies or talents.  
  
"That's one of my favorite books," said a subdued voiced behind Adam.  
  
Adam turned around and Tamsin stood there, hair tied back in a ponytail and a pen perched behind her ear. From behind her glasses Tamsin's eyes held an unreadable expression.  
  
"What are you doing here?" It was a coincidence to see Tamsin, considering that Adam had just been thinking of her.  
  
"I work here, actually." Adam looked down and finally noticed the green employee's vest, the nametag labeled 'Thomasin' and the stack of books that Tamsin carried. "My family owns a pretty big stake in this company and I've always loved books...So it was just natural that I work here."  
  
Adam was surprised that Tamsin had just told him all that information about herself voluntarily. "You really read all this stuff?"  
  
Tamsin stood next to Adam in front of the war/history shelf and she pointed to the first book on the top shelf. "I've been working here since the day I turned 14, and I started with that book up there. Now I'm down here." Adam followed the progression of her finger as Tamsin pointed to a spot on the third shelf.  
  
"Wow." Adam was impressed. "That's really amazing."  
  
Tamsin shelved a couple of the books before responding, "Yeah, well, I'm a little bit of a dork. Not at all cool like Pilar. Anyway, is there something I could help you find? Are you looking for a book for the project Frankel is giving for Honors History?"  
  
"No, I'm just browsing for something to read. And, really, I think that it's cool that you like this stuff."  
  
Adam was almost proud to note that it looked like Tamsin was realizing that maybe she underestimated him. "Oh, well, thanks. Let me know when you finish that book—I'd like to know what you think."  
  
Adam smiled at her. "That would be great."  
  
Tamsin continued. "In fact, you'll probably be through a couple of chapters by Thursday."  
  
"Thursday?" Adam was confused.  
  
"Yeah...I'll see you when you pick Pilar up for your date."  
  
Adam was slow to answer. "Oh, right. Well, yeah, I'll see you then."  
  
Just then Connie popped her head around the corner. "Hey, Banks, you ready to go?"  
  
By the time Adam had looked at Connie and then looked back to where Tamsin was standing, she was gone—probably shelving books in some other section. "Yeah, I'm ready. Just let me pay for this book and we can get out of here."  
  
As they walked toward the register, Connie asked, "Who was that?"  
  
Adam peered at the bills in his wallet as he answered. "Her name is Tom Logan." He felt uncomfortable sharing with Connie his personal nickname for her.  
  
Connie raised an eyebrow. "And what is she to you?"  
  
Adam laughed—leave it to Connie to get her gossip radar up. "Well, apparently I'm dating her best friend." Adam had to smile at Connie's confused expression just because at that moment, he shared the feeling.

ALL-SPECIAL PREVIEW

Title: "Convince Her to Stay"

Set-up/Summary (The one that won't fit in the 225-character limit FF gives me): Adam Banks and Thomasin Logan are 23 and comfortable in their long-distance Minneapolis/LA relationship until Adam proposes. With full-on preparations going on for a wedding, Adam makes a mistake that changes their lives for the worse. As Tamsin threatens to leave, Adam realizes that he has one week (what's up with Adam and a week?) to convince the woman he loves to take him back. After one week, Tamsin walks away from their relationship and Adam and Tamsin don't speak for two years, under the public facade that they split amicably. After two years have passed, Tamsin enters Adam's life again in the form of a wedding invitation her mother sends. Will Adam be able to capitalize on the chance to redeem his mistakes? An epic love story.

Disclaimer: Real people, places and things are mentioned in this story for the purpose of authenticity. I don't own them--if I did, I probably would not be sitting here writing stories...I'd be shopping because I'd be freakin' rich.  
  
Adam fidgeted in his chair while glancing around the dining room of Forepaugh's, one of the finest restaurants in Minneapolis. It was a very special occasion and Adam had the right to be nervous, but nonetheless the sheer formality of the huge Victorian mansion made him practically catatonic. The small, black, velvet box he fingered was burning a hole through his pocket.  
  
Adam thought back to the conversation he had with his father, Philip Banks, about a week ago. Adam told his dad what he was planning on doing and Mr. Banks didn't give Adam the most enthusiastic approval that he would have hoped for. 'You're too young' and 'How do you know that she's the right girl?' were among his half-hearted reasons for objection. The father and son stared each other down, both knowing all too well that Adam would go ahead with his plan anyway.  
  
Adam was 23, graduated out of the University of Minnesota with a degree in Finance and holding down a steady job in a Financial Advisory and Law firm in the city. Adam planned on going back to school to eventually get a graduate degree. Personally, he felt like he was ready to make this commitment.  
  
Adam suddenly felt a kick at his leg from under the table.  
  
"Adam!" Thomasin Logan hissed his name, indicating the waiter who looked like he had been standing there for quite awhile.  
  
Adam blushed as he quickly ordered his meal and handed the menu over to the expressionless waiter.  
  
Thomasin, or Tamsin as Adam called her, gave him an apologetic smile. "Sorry I had to do that. I couldn't think of any other way to get your attention."  
  
Adam smiled back, gazing at the girl that he had chosen. When they first met, back in their sophomore year of high school, Tamsin was a serious- looking girl with a subdued voice and square, black-rimmed glasses. Now, seven years later, Tamsin was still the same girl, but she was also an elegant beauty who had grown into her once vaguely awkward aquiline nose and tall frame. Dressed in a lovely black cocktail dress with her brown hair pulled back into a classic French twist, Tamsin was heartbreakingly beautiful. Adam nodded his head. He was confident that she was the right one.  
  
He reached across the table and grabbed Tamsin's hands. Now was the time to do it and Adam could not turn back. "I love you—but you know that, right?"  
  
Tamsin sighed with contentment. "Well, here we are, seven years to the day we've been together."  
  
"So, would you say that you're comfortable with how things have been working out—me living in Minneapolis and you in Los Angeles?"  
  
Tamsin attended college at the University of California in Los Angeles, and was currently a student at their famed law school. They visited each other at least one weekend a month and consequently had both logged plenty of Frequent Flyer miles.  
  
Tamsin took a sip of her fine vintage merlot. "It's not the most ideal arrangement, but we can deal with it together."  
  
Adam detached one of his hands and reached into the pocket of his trousers, grabbing hold of the black, velvet box. "What would you say if I said that I could change our arrangement?"  
  
Tamsin ran a soft finger down Adam's arm. "I would say that I'm all ears. What kind of changes would have to be made?"  
  
Adam's grin grew wider and wider as he said, "Well, I worked it out with Luke Kensington and we agreed that next year that I could be transferred to their offices in Los Angeles. I told him that the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with lived there."  
  
Tamsin's expression was stunned. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"  
  
As he pulled the box out of his pocket to expose the $30, 000 ring (a gorgeous, Princess-cut diamond set on a platinum band with side stones, for all the ladies), Tamsin gasped. "I'm saying that I want you to marry me."  
  
Tamsin's eyes were wide as she shook her head from side to side. "You're joking with me, aren't you? This has to be a hoax."  
  
Adam was getting slightly alarmed, like he was worried that she was seriously going to say no. "No, it's not a joke. I love you, Thomasin Logan, and I want you to be my wife."  
  
With a hand covering her gaping mouth, tears started running down Tamsin's face. "Oh, my God...YES!" They embraced and Adam placed the ring on Tamsin's finger.  
  
"Really, this ring is too much," Tamsin paused to gaze at the celestial object taking up a huge amount of space on her left ring finger. "Oh, whatever, I love it! And I love you!"  
  
Feeling strangely bold like a drunk man, Adam raised his wine glass with his arm around the woman he loved and announced to the inhabitants in the beautiful dining room. "Ladies and gentlemen, I would just like to say that this young lady and I are getting married!"  
  
An outburst of impromptu applause followed while Adam and Tamsin kissed. It was undoubtedly one of the happiest moments of Adam's life. However, it would all go downhill from there.


	6. The Weekly Rankings

A/N: I thought that we could all use a break from Tamsin. I like her, but sometimes too much is too much, especially between this story and "Convince Her to Stay." So, here's a chapter that focuses on the hockey portion of Adam's life. And, a note to Rachel--you're right, I never mentioned new team members in "Wanting What You Have." But I thought about it, and its only natural that they existed and I just forgot about them. Here is the unofficial explanation, which is made totally in hindsight and is probably untrue: In Adam's senior season, the Brat Pack would have just entered their first year on Varsity, so they wouldn't qualify as good friends of Adam. And, also, the stigma from his feelings about them in Chapter 5 may have carried over and he never really got to know them.

Six weeks after the start of the season, Adam found himself sitting in Coach Wilson's office before practice. He twiddled his thumbs, waiting for Wilson to hang up the phone. Adam glanced out of the glass panel that separated the office from the rest of the locker room. He locked eyes with Lunch Box, who smirked at him—a look that said, 'Chump, I'll always be better than you.' God, Adam hated Wesley, sometimes more than he did Cole and Riley. Scooter looked over with curiosity and gave Adam a questioning glance. However, Adam was not aware of why Wilson wanted to talk to him any more than Scooter did.  
  
Coach Wilson placed the phone on the receiver, sat back in his black leather executive chair and looked Adam over. Adam fidgeted in nervousness. "You know why you're here, right Adam?"  
  
The other guys used a very casual and familiar tone when addressing Coach Wilson. Adam, as the youngest member of the team once again, always spoke formally and distantly in Wilson's presence. "Actually, no sir, I have no idea."  
  
"Do you know what this is?" Wilson gestured towards his white board. On it, the names of all the teams in their division were written in Black dry- erase marker.  
  
"I believe those are the records of everyone in our division."  
  
"Yes, very perceptive. And this," he pointed to the top of the board, where Eden Hall was situated, "shows that we are 6-0."  
  
Coach Wilson rummaged around in the top drawer of his desk and came out with a bundled up newspaper. "And this? Any idea what this is?"  
  
Adam was getting uncharacteristically impatient. "Again, I'd have to say no."  
  
"As you may know, the PLHCA (Preparatory Level Hockey Coaches Association) does a weekly ranking of all the Division I teams in the nation. We at Eden Hall have never paid very much attention to it because, despite our storied history, we've failed to ever crack the Top 20."  
  
Adam unconsciously tapped his fingers quickly against his knee. "With all due respect, sir, I'm not seeing how all this applies to me."  
  
Wilson threw his arm up in mock frustration. "For Pete's sake, Adam, look at this right here." He pointed at a line on the newspaper. "This week's edition has Eden Hall ranked 14th in the nation. Fourteenth! That is unprecedented for us."  
  
Adam smiled a wide grin. "Well, that's awesome."  
  
"Can you think of a reason why we would garner this much attention this year, when in years past we haven't so much as cracked the radar on the national stage in years past?"

Adam thought for a moment. "Well, everyone else in our division is getting a lot better. The level of competition that we've been playing in has improved. Our team has a lot of experienced seniors." He paused. "And if nothing else, Scooter is practically flawless in the goal. We've had four shut outs this year already."  
  
Coach Wilson grinned at Adam with high regard. "That might all be true, but that's not what the media sees. Read the commentary after our ranking."  
  
Adam read silently and was progressively more and more stunned with every word.  
  
14. Eden Hall Academy (Minneapolis, MN)(6-0-0)(24)—Led by an offensive juggernaut, precocious sophomore Adam Banks, along with a suffocating defense, Eden Hall could be looking toward their first appearance in the national tournament.  
  
"Wow," was all Adam could manage to say.  
  
Surprisingly, Coach Wilson laughed. "Yeah, my thought exactly. I never imagined that this could happen. And I don't think that I'm exaggerating when I say that we owe a good majority of this to you, Adam."  
  
Adam's voice was filled with uncertainty. "You really think so?"  
  
Coach Wilson nodded. "If you continue to perform at this high level, we may have a shot at the national championship tournament at the end of the season. We're counting on you."  
  
"Well, I'll do my best, sir." Adam said halfheartedly.  
  
"Fantastic! That's what I like to hear! You know, Rick told me that you'd be this good."  
  
Adam was aghast at this news and forgot to keep the formal tone in his voice. "Wait, are you serious? I thought Riley hated my guts."  
  
Coach Wilson leaned in closer to Adam with an air of confidentiality. "Well, I'm not going to lie to you and say that he didn't. But Rick had responsibilities to me first as a captain, a role he took seriously. Rick could recognize talent and he knew that you had it. Rick called you 'a future captain' and thought that you eventually could bring the team to the next level. But I don't think he thought that progress would come so soon."  
  
Adam took the time to absorb everything Coach Wilson had just said. It was at this moment that Adam knew that for the rest of his high school career, he would be a Varsity hockey player. There was no turning back now. This realization made him just slightly sad. "Thanks for talking to me, Coach. I should get ready for practice now."  
  
Wilson nodded. "You're a good kid, Banks."  
  
Adam nodded in response, but noted that it was the second time someone had told him that he was a 'good' person. Adam was doing everything right by other people, but were his actions what he really wanted?


	7. Best Friends?

A/N: Yeah, yeah, I know, finally.

When Adam joined Scooter on the bench in front of their lockers before practice, Adam could sense Scooter was in an odd mood. He treaded carefully. "What's up, Scooter?"

Scooter's voice was subdued. "Have you seen the USA Today?"

"I never read USA Today. Is there anything interesting in it?" Adam found Scooter's question odd.

"Well, you should take a look at it." Scooter leaned back into his locker, grabbed a copy of the newspaper, and handed it to Adam.

For the second time in too short of a time span, Adam was shocked by what he read.

HIGH SCHOOL HOCKEY: BREEDING FUTURE NHL STARS

1. Adam Banks, Eden Hall Academy, Minneapolis, MN.

Banks, just a sophomore, has played for Eden Hall Academy's state championship Varsity team since his freshman season. Regardless of the fact that he is the youngest member of the team, the talented center has quickly taken control of the offense and the team's destiny. Given a few years, Banks may revolutionize the way the game is played—he is potentially that good. Eden Hall coach Richard Wilson elaborated. "Adam (Banks) is our version of baseball's five-tool player—he can pass, shoot and play defense. Hell, if we really needed him in the net, I would put my total faith in him. Adam may be short on experience, but he's high on talent and moxie." Eden Hall currently sports a record of...

"Has everyone else seen this?" Adam asked as he looked up from the paper.

Scooter nodded to a corner of the room where a wooden chair lay broken and splintered on the floor. "Lunch Box did that just before you came. We had to calm him down."

"Why is everyone so upset about all this?" That was one thing Adam just could not understand.

"Adam, you have to realize that you're young. No matter how good you are, the general feeling is that the season is played for the seniors—its their chance to make all the memories they can and soak in all the attention that comes with the status. And the experience just hasn't been the same with all the media surrounding you."

Adam snapped back. "Wait, this is supposed to be my fault? I'm pissing everyone off because I'm contributing to this team? Scooter, we're undefeated—isn't winning supposed to count for something around here?"

"Of course we all like winning," Scooter answered defensively. "The guys just feel like they've become an afterthought on their own team."

Adam turned his head sideways to glance at Scooter. "And what about you, Scooter? Is that how you feel?"

Scooter stared straight ahead, as if he refused to look Adam in the eye. "I'm their captain, Adam. I have to look out for them, too."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Scooter shook his head. "I don't know."

Adam stood up angrily. "Whatever, Scooter—you know this is all bullshit. I thought we were friends. I'm out of here." Adam grabbed his duffel bag and stormed out. He'd worry about the repercussions with Coach Wilson later.

"You've really got yourself a situation, Banksie." Charlie commented as he lounged on Adam's bed, reading a copy of USA Today.

"Tell me about it," Adam replied from his computer desk. "Damnit, it seems like every newspaper in the country picked up on this story. I'm surprised that my dad hasn't called yet."

"Look on the bright side—you might be able to score us a trip to London or something this summer from your dad." Charlie gave Adam a devilish grin.

"Come on, Charlie, this is serious. I don't know what to do. Every time I step on the ice, or any time a newspaper article comes out, the guys resent me that much more. If I lower the amount of touches I get on the puck or defer to someone like Luke, we might lose. And then the guys would blame me for ruining their potential National Championship."

Charlie crumpled the newspaper and shot it, basketball-style, towards the trash can. It soared gracefully and hit the wall for a clean bank-shot. "Score! So what are you going to do?"

Adam grimaced. "As hard as it is for me to admit, maybe it is time for me to quit. I don't have to deal with all this crap. My life would be a lot easier if I played for the Ducks again."

Charlie gave Adam a knowing smile. "Come on, Adam—you know that you have too much pride for that. As much as I'd like to have you around a lot more, you can't quit."

Adam unconsciously stuck his chin out defiantly. "You know I trust your opinion more than anyone, Charlie. Give me more than one good reason to stay and I will."

Charlie sat up, with his back against the wall. "First off, I know you don't want to give Cole and Riley the satisfaction of knowing that you quit. After all the shit they put you through, you don't want them to know that they won—that they broke you."

"Yeah, you're right," Adam hesitantly conceded, chewing on a fingernail. "But that's one reason—you've still got another to go."

"Easy," Charlie said with a smile, "As much as you can't stand some of those guys, you love Varsity hockey. You love the level of play, the thrill of knowing that college scouts are taking notice, and you love winning. You'd never give it up just to prove a bunch of jerks wrong."

"Damnit, Charlie," Adam replied thoughtfully, "Why do you have to be right about this?"

"Hey, it's my job as the level-headed best friend," Charlie said ironically, as they both knew that was the role Adam usually played.

"But now I don't even have Scooter as an ally in the locker room. I don't know if I can do it without him helping me out."

Charlie was silent for a moment. "I think he needs you for support as much as you need him—you're his best friend. I don't know Scooter very well, but I know he'll come around. Don't worry about it."


End file.
